Geoffrey Elliot: A Poketale
by Mcfeegle
Summary: A story I wrote about the origins of my original pokemon character, Geoffrey Elliot, who was created for a roleplay. The story is being written from a different point of view by my friend, but I don't know if she'll publish it.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Most stories start with the sea.

Unfortunately, this isn't one of them. I wanted to go on this big rant on how the sea is forever changing, and unknowable, and uncontrollable, etc. And then how mountains are constant and reliable, but in their own way as uncaring of your existence as the sea. You can live, and die, and throughout the ages the mountains will stay the same. No matter what you do, that mountain that you see outside your window everyday will be waiting there when your great, great, great grandson wakes up so many years from now.

However, I'm not good enough at writing for that. Or ranting. I'm not good at much of anything, come to think of it.

Especially writing, though. I mean, I've heard tell that, within your first paragraph, you should establish a character, setting, and problem to draw your readers in and here I am, four paragraphs in and you still have no idea who I am, where I am, or what my issue is.

So here you go. My name is Geoffrey Elliot, I live in a small village in the foothills of a huge mountain range, and my mom just kicked me out of the house.

In her own way, my mom's a lot like the sea. She's unknowable, uncontrollable, and can often be described as 'roaring.'

I guess that makes me a mountain. If left on my own, I'd be perfectly content to sit still and watch the world go past me, and I don't much care what anyone else does.

Also, I'd like to point out that when you get a mountain right by the sea, the waves beat on it, over and over again throughout the millennia. At first it seems like it's pointless. The cliffs just stand there, taking it. Sooner or later, though, the sea always wins.

"What do you think you are doing?" the ocean roared. "You sit on your lazy butt all day and leave me to do all the chores."

I sighed and looked down through the branches of the trees to where my mother was standing, hands on her hips. I got my blonde hair and thin build from her, but my height and green eyes from my dad. He wasn't around anymore. "I've milked the miltanks," my mom said, counting on her fingers, "Weeded the garden, started bread baking for dinner, swept out the house, and what have you done?"

"Um. . . Invented a metaphor for the constant battle between the ocean and the mountains," I replied, "Also, compared and contrasted their attitudes towards the human race, if one could say they have an attitude at all, which is arguable."

My mother just stared at me, foot tapping.

"But of course that was all because I'm hiding in this tree form Mr. Jensen, who's mad at me for dying his chickens' feathers green and making him think they were sick."

"I knew it!" she said, "I knew you were behind that. Now get down here. I have something I need to talk to you about."

I slipped down from my perch in the tree, following my mother inside. It was futile trying to fight with her when she got like this. Mountains don't fight anyway, they just let themselves get worn down.

I followed Mom into our kitchen, which was decorated about how you would expect for a cottage-in-the-mountain kitchen. Wooden table, simple counter, blue-and-white china decorations scattered about around the doilies.

And, today, something I never expected to see, sitting in the middle of the table.

A pokeball.

"I had Professor Yew bring this over," she said. "You spend your days either sitting in trees or pulling pranks on the neighbors. I just don't know what to do with you anymore."

"So, what? You're just kicking me out?" I asked. "I act just a little bit lazy and you kick me out of the house?"

"I've tried everything else!" Mom shouted, slamming her hand on the table. "Maybe being a Pokemon trainer will teach you a bit of responsibility. You'll see how hard it is to take care of another living thing, and maybe it will teach you a bit of respect, too."

I stared at the ball on the table. It just sat there.

"Do you at least know what pokemon it is?" I picked it up.

"I didn't ask," said my Mom. She walked around the table and gave me a hug. "Good luck," she said. "Come back when you've learned your lesson."

"I might." I said, gripping the pokeball harder. This whole thing was injecting far too much angst into my otherwise upbeat narrative, and with stories (especially written by teenagers) being infamous for being overly dramatic, I knew I couldn't stick around much longer.

"This is for your journey," my mom said, handing me a backpack full of supplies. "I just know you're going to be the very best, like no one ever was."

"Yeah, Mom, sure." I said, taking the pack and leaving through the kitchen door, off to adventures untold.

Like I said, sooner or later, the ocean always wins.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

In some ways, fog was sort of like the ocean. It was huge and surrounding, but you could only see a small part of it at a time. And its wet.

I was surrounded by fog. This stretch of road was perpetually surrounded by fog. I'd been down it hundreds of times, but I never got used to it. For one thing, I couldn't see the mountains, which really threw off my sense of direction. I had to navigate by staring at what bit of road I could see right in front of me. It was more annoying than scary, but there had been a couple of attacks by wild pokemon recently, and I was wary.

I thought about the pokeball hanging at my side. It might give me a fighting chance against a wild pokemon, but I still had no idea what it contained and I was sure that the moment I pulled it out I would be attacked. It would be most dramatic that way. I was just grateful that I'd never had a traumatic experience with a pokemon when I was a kid, or it would definitely be that pokemon that attacked me.

Unfortunately, it seemed that the universe was more in the mood for slapstick. I tripped over a rock, sprawling flat on my face. My pokeball came off of my belt, rolling along the path and out of sight.

I picked myself up and rubbed my elbow, which had been scraped. I started crawling forward, staying close to the ground so I could look for my pokeball. I followed the path, but I wasn't seeing it. I stood up as I got close to a rope bridge, which stretched across a ravine. I was about to turn around to search the path again when my foot hit something. I looked down just in time to see my pokeball falling off the cliff.

I cursed and kicked at the dirt. I couldn't go home and tell my mom I had lost my first pokemon before I had even reached Solaceon. She wouldn't let me stop my journey. She'd probably make me take one of Mr. Jensen's chickens instead, and I couldn't see them winning any battles.

So I carefully eased my way over the cliff and started down. It wasn't a sheer cliff. It was sort of sloped with lots of ledges and plenty of handholds, so climbing it wasn't too hard. Until a few feet from the bottom when I lost my grip and slid the rest of the way. I suppose that was one thing the ocean had going for it. It didn't scrape you up near as much as mountains.

My pokeball was there at the edge of the river, and I picked it up before it could fall in and cause me more problems.

That, of course, was when the wild pokemon attacked.

A rock hit me in the ear. I raised my hand to it and felt something wet. Blood. Another rock hit me in the head and I spun around. It was a Machop, picking up more rocks to throw at me. I'd always thought Machops were sort of creepy, the way they almost looked like little half-lizard children.  
I looked around, trying to figure out what to do. I could climb up the cliff to escape, but I would be pelted my whole way up. The one that hit my ear had done some serious damage, I could tell. I couldn't risk being hit in the head again. I only had one choice.

"Whatever you are!" I shouted, pulling out my pokeball. "I choose you!" I threw it as hard as I could.

It glowed and a pokemon appeared. It was a blue cat. . . dog. . . lion. . . thing. It stretched yawned.

"Attack!" I yelled, hoping it didn't need a more specific order.

Machop seemed to delight in the new target. It threw a rock at the new pokemon, hitting it in the back. It jumped, letting off a huge flash of light.

I couldn't see. Bright colors danced at the edge of my vision, which had mostly gone black. Like when you stare at a light for too long and then look away. It was worse than the fog. The only upside was that Machop might have been blinded, too.

Unfortunately, either it could see or was throwing rocks blindly. One hit me in the shoulder and I lost my balance, falling on my backside. I scrambled to my knees and started feeling around. I discovered that the river was to my right, plunging my hand in freezing cold water. That meant the cliff had to be to my left. I crawled in that direction.

Another rock hit me in the leg. "Attack!" I shouted. "Attack it, you stupid cat-thing! You're worse than a chicken!"

I rubbed my eyes, trying desperately to restore my vision. It was improving slightly, and I thought I saw the little pokemon ram itself into the Machop, knocking it over. I blinked a few more times, and I could see the cliff. Possibly well enough to climb it. I had an idea.

"Pokemon!" I shouted, preparing. "Do that glowy thing again and then run over to me."

When I opened my eyes again, the Machop had dropped its rocks and was rubbing its eyes. The little pokemon ran over to me and jumped on my shoulder. I started to climb, feeling its claws dig into my shoulder. When I made it to the top, I didn't stop. I practically ran across the bridge and kept going.

When we emerged into the sun, the pokemon jumped off my back and I collapsed, leaning my back against a rock wall. "Cliffs and wild pokemon and temporary blindness." I said. "Stupid dramatic imperative."

Now that I wasn't having rocks thrown at me, I took some time to really look at my pokemon. It's back legs were black, with blue paw. It had yellow rings around its front paws, a long blue tail with a yellow tuft at the end, and round ears with tufts of yellow fur sticking out of them. I had absolutely no idea what it was. It looked like it was probably electrical, but that was all I could guess.

I thought my mom might have given me a pokedex, too, so I searched through my pockets. No such luck.

"Well, I have no idea what you are so I'm just going to have to name you," I said. "I can't keep calling you pokemon."

It was jumping around in the grass, batting at dandelion seeds. I stood up and walked over to it. "So should I call you?" I asked. "Are you a boy or a girl?" I reached down to pick it up and it started to glow. "Don't do that again." I closed my eyes and picked it up. "I'm enjoying seeing stuff again."

I sat down again and put the pokemon on my lap, rubbing its head. It seemed to like it well enough. I opened my eyes. "Twitch your tail once if you're a girl, and twice if you're a boy. Okay?"

It twitched its tail three times.

"That's helpful," I said. I watched it for a moment. Its movements seemed sleek and elegant. "You seem too pretty to be a boy," I decided. "If you're male you'd better speak up quick or you'll end up with a girl name."

It responded by rubbing its head against my hand and making me pet it more."'re Selena, and there's nothing you can do about it."

I stood up and brushed the dirt of my pants. I didn't feel like putting Selena back in her pokeball, so I just put her on my shoulder again. "There has been far too much melodrama recently." I said. "When we get to Solaceon, we should completely fail to run into any long-lost siblings or legendary pokemon that have come to take vengeance on humanity."

"Shii!' said Selena.

So there I was, with a bleeding head-wound, several bruises, and a brand new pokemon. So far my adventure appeared to be a mix between a soap opera and a slapstick comedy. Perhaps things could only get better from there.

It was a stupid thing to think. I should have realized that, for my adventure to feel like it had some importance, there would have to be some sort of large danger posed to the world in general, or at the very least my part of it. That meant things were going to have to get far, far worse.

But it made me feel better at the time, so what can you do?


End file.
